


Immediate Medical Attention

by sweetsyringe



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Disembowelment, Gen, Gore, Knives, Medical Torture, Medical Trauma, Mouth trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 12:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20724287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetsyringe/pseuds/sweetsyringe
Summary: You, the reader, are unfortunately taken in as a "patient" at Stonehearst Hospital, despite being in perfectly good condition. The good doctor, Thatcher Allius, has so kindly offered to preform the procedure to heal you.---Intended for those of us with severely disturbing fantasies.TW for severe gore and medical trauma and implied death of the reader.





	Immediate Medical Attention

**Author's Note:**

> Dr. Thatcher Allius belongs to a friend of mine. He and Dr. Anita Kleaver (briefly mentioned here) are the product of what was supposed to be a one-off haunted house, but that has clearly gotten out of hand.

"You're a tough one, aren't you?"

You laid face up on a cold metal operating table, strapped in place by rough leather restraints. You could feel the skin coming raw underneath of them. Beside you stood a tall, pale man, who was in the process of haphazardly tied his blonde hair back. As he did so, his eyepatch came loose, giving you just barely a glimpse of what was underneath. Distantly, you wondered if it had been caused by another one of his patients. Hopefully it had.

You were abruptly jolted out of your musing by him snapping in your face.

"Hey! Stay with me. This isn't nearly as fun if you pass out, and haven't even started yet." Delight played at the edge of his voice, and that alone made you sick to your stomach. Your heart was pounding so hard that you could barely hear him. In his hands, he held... Well, something. At this angle you couldn't see what it was, and you could only twist your head so far. You'd bet your right arm that whatever it was wasn't pleasant, though. And you guessed that you wouldn't have an arm to bet pretty soon.

Dr. Allius, as you'd heard him briefly addressed by a strange woman in a labcoat, was pouring over a manila envelope. Whatever was written in it had him looking ecstatic. You watched him like a hawk, starting whenever he so much as twitched.

"Poor thing. From what it says here, you've been very, very ill-"

Ill? You weren't ill. "You heard wrong."

The doctor clicked his tongue and grabbed your face in his free hand, "Did I ask for your opinion? Hold your tongue, unless you'd like to donate it."

You swallowed dryly and held your tongue. Dr. Allius let go of you and quickly turned heel, sauntering over to the adjacent work table.

"Good. Now, as I was saying, before I was so _rudely interrupted_-" he gritted his teeth as he spoke, "You're gravely ill. Terminal, some might say. I'm here to help you."

You didn't need to be fixed, though you doubted he even planned to do that. The thought of this hack so much as laying a hand on you had your nerves jumping.

"This would be the part where you say," he paused, and then pitched his voice up, "'Thank you, Doctor.'"

"Fuck you, Doctor." The bitter thought had slipped out unintentionally. But boy, did it feel good.

That didn't last long.

You heard the sound of metal clanging against the table. Within seconds, Dr. Allius had stormed back to your side and had his hand around your throat.

"What did I say about getting mouthy?! You're in no position to make cute little wisecracks, you dumb fuck!" He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, coolly collecting himself, "If you refuse to shut. The Fuck. Up. I will have to do it for you." His demeanor had changed in seconds. All the boiling anger had simmered, and now he was calm as could be, fetching something from beneath the operating table. You were shaking.

Dr. Allius stood up, now holding a pair of forceps and surgical scissors. He smiled condescendingly down at you, "Mind if I leave these here for just a second? I forgot something." He placed the instruments next to your head and turned his back to you again. Your heartbeat was getting exponentially faster, and you wished you had some kind of mobility. No matter how hard you struggled, the restraints gave you no leverage. All you could do now was wait for the good doctor to do whatever he wanted to do.

After a few seconds, he returned to your side. Again he had that horrible, cruel smile on. 

"Let's get started, shall we?" Quick as a whip, he slapped a pair of black rubber gloves against the table, the cracking sound practically shattering your eardrums. You nearly jumped out of your skin, but the doctor just laughed, "Oh, sorry! Did that scare you?"

He pulled the gloves on, snapping them over the sleeves of his labcoat. Then his hands were on you in an instant, grabbing your face again, "Come on, open up."

You clamped your mouth shut and shook your head. Dr. Allius grew testy.

"I said. Open. Up." He pinched your nose tightly, and so the game began. You held out for about forty seconds, until your lungs felt like they were burning right out of your chest, and before you could fight the instinct you sucked in a gulp of sweet air. The doctor reacted quickly, shoving his fingers into your mouth and grabbing his forceps to plunge in after them. Before you could crunch down on his fingers, he slipped them out of your mouth, and your teeth scraped against metal.

"Now then, let's get rid of that pesky tongue, hm?" The forceps grabbed your tongue painfully hard, holding it taught. You sputtered, whimpering as best you could in this compromising position. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him take the scissors. He held them up for you to see better, snipping them once in the air for good measure. Briefly, Dr. Allius eyed you, chewing the inside of his mouth as though in deep contemplation. Then, without warning, he shoved the scissors into your mouth and closed them on the base of your tongue.

You scream was gargled and blood-curdling. The first cut hadn't severed the muscle altogether, so it took a few snips before it came off. Blood gushed into your mouth, choking you and pouring down your chin, mixing messily with spittle as it leaked from the corners of your mouth. Your vision went pure white and blood pumped in your ears. Nothing was coherent. Very distantly you could hear Dr. Allius laughing, but you didn't care. You thrashed helplessly against the restraints, the skin around your wrists and ankles tearing away as you did so. You scream quickly grew hoarse, and more and more blood dripped down your face. The stump of your tongue was numb. 

"Oh, Jesus Christ. Stop carrying on, will you?" Allius, who had grown tired of your pained screams, shoved a wad of gauze into your mouth. It didn't entirely stop the flow of blood, but it kept it from drowning you, "See, there. Now you won't choke to death on your own blood, and you'll finally shut up! It's a win-win situation." He held your now unattached tongue in the forceps above your head so you could get a good look at it. Judging from the expression on his face, he was having the time of his life. He flopped it around in front of you for a bit, like a child playing with a cat, before he got bored and dropped it unceremoniously on a nearby tray, "Feeling better yet? I told you I'd put you out of your misery."

He stepped away from your table, leaving you to whine and cough on your own. You tried to calm down. You tried to ignore the searing pain. You tried to fight the vomit that was clawing its way up your throat. You failed on all counts, bile seeping into the cloth that Allius had stuffed your mouth with. Hot tears poured down your cheeks, thinning out the blood on your face. You had no idea how this could possibly get worse.

Only, it could.

Allius returned to your side, flaunting a sharp, clean knife. He seemed perfectly at ease. That is, until he saw the vomit soaking your rag.

"Ugh, you've got to be kidding me. You're disgusting. Give it here." He yanked it out of your mouth, tearing the flesh where the fabric had already attached itself. Your new scream was cut off, though, as he quickly replaced the gauze. He held the soiled one at arms length, dropping it in a medical waste bin not far off. He wiped his hands off on his rubber apron.

You took short, huffy breaths through your nose, slowly losing consciousness. When Allius saw this, he grew angrier, "Jesus fuck, are you kidding me? Already?" He not so gently smacked you across the face, "Stay awake. I won't have you passed out during the fun part." Fun part? Hadn't he tortured you enough? You tried in vain to voice your complaint, only to have the doctor laugh in your face, "What are you even saying? You sound like an idiot. Shut up."

With that, he brandished the knife.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Anita used it the other day on a patient of her own. I can't wait to see how it handles." He spoke excitedly, like a kid waiting to test out a new bicycle. He ran his hand over your stomach and lifted your shirt, revealing your belly. You swallowed hard past your gag, flinching at his touch. Dr. Allius flashed you a wide grin, and lifted the knife, "Well, only one way to find out!"

He dug the knife into your flesh, pulling it through slowly, to create the first incision. Your screams were immediately renewed, muffled and unsatisfying, and you began to thrash again. Nothing worked. You were trapped and splayed out perfectly for him to cut into, like a piece of meat. As he finished the cut, he frowned and poked at it, sticking his fingers in experimentally. You howled, writhing wildly, doing whatever you could to try and get free.

"Shit, looks like it didn't go deep enough." He tutted, huffing through his nose. Your breath quickened to a hyperventilating pace, but it was all you could do to watch him as he dipped the knife back into the cut and split the flesh more deeply. Blood gushed out of the wound. Things were starting to get fuzzy, and between the pain and bloodloss you couldn't stay focused. The new cut seemed to please Dr. Allius, as he laughed.

"Perfect! Now let's get those guts out, why don't we? I bet they're the source of your little problem." You didn't respond. You couldn't respond. You could only scream and plead unintelligibly. Allius dipped his fingers experimentally into the wound, bit by bit getting more bold in his exploration. In a moment, he dove his entire hand into your belly and grabbed hold of your upper intestine, yanking it out. You were bawling hysterically, swinging your head violently from side to side, pleading incomprehensibly with the doctor as he pulled out your guts. Visceral blood oozed out of the wound, dripping in chunky globs onto the table. You intestines squirmed, strewn about on the table around you. Your legs kicked in futile protest against the restraints, your cries getting weaker and weaker as you slipped in and out of consciousness. You choked against the gag, on a concoction of your own blood and saliva. Dr. Allius wavered in and out of view, as did the rest of the lab. The sight of your own guts pouring out of your body left you sick, but there was not vomit left for you to purge. Black inched around your vision as you tried desperately to use the last of your strength to break free. It was no use.

Searing pain overtook your body suddenly, and went numb just as quick. Your vision went black. The world faded, and the last thing you saw was Dr. Allius, still elbow deep in your innards.

"Fuck. Another one for the freezer, I guess."

**Author's Note:**

> This was entirely fantasy fulfillment, by which I mean I want to die.


End file.
